


Keep My Secrets (And I'll Keep Yours)

by Resist_Reduce_Recycle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Bad Puns, Baker Rose, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Eventual Smut, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Explicit Sexual Content, Farm Boy Ben Solo, Farmer Finn, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Horseback Riding, Implied Poe Dameron/Finn, Innuendo, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Nature, Pining, Poe Dameron - Freeform, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey is in denial, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Sort Of, They're a mess, Unresolved Sexual Tension, drifter rey, gratuitous nature descriptions, puns are back, really slow burn, the two of them against the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resist_Reduce_Recycle/pseuds/Resist_Reduce_Recycle
Summary: Long term traveller Rey rolls into town for a summer of working on Finn and Rose's organic farm, only to be confronted with an unwelcome reminder of her past - their farm hand, Ben Solo. Thrown together during the long summer days, the two must grapple with their history, secrets, and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Work Away Profile:**

_ Hi, I’m Rey. I’m 20, a mechanic by trade but I’m happy to get my hands dirty and help out with anything from cooking to manual labour. I’m a long-term traveller, I have my own transport, and camping equipment if accommodation is a problem. I’m easy to get along with and have an open mind, tidy, respectful, eager to lend a hand and capable of entertaining myself. _

_ Reviews:☼☼☼☼☼ 13 Reviews _

**Rey:** Hi Finn! I spotted your profile and I was really impressed with the all-organic initiative. I’m sick of big farms killing the bees with all those pesticides – and I’d really like to join your little resistance! If you’re looking for a worker to help out, I’d be ecstatic to visit, and even stay the full summer if you’ll have me.

**Finn:** Rey! your profile looks great – all those positive reviews, you must have made some seriously good bribes :D jk, but seriously, we’d love to have you 

**Finn:** usually people only stay a month or so but if your work is good and youre enjoying the place you can stay longer. we’re usually picking until late sept so we can always use the help

**Finn:** when were you thinking of coming?

**Rey:** Thanks – it was all baked goods bribery. Next week, I was thinking, but I can change if that’s no good…

**Finn:** that sounds great! do you need a pickup from town?

**Rey:** I have a car so just the address and directions will be fine.

 

The ancient frame of her truck groans as she turns off the main road and onto a narrow dirt path. Dark trees rise up in front of her, between the road and where she guesses the lake is. To her right, fruit trees grow in neat rows, the odd piece of reddening fruit just visible between the dense leaves. A cool breeze wafts through the slow-moving truck and Rey can’t help but shiver – summer’s not in full swing yet and her short sleeves and denim cut-offs were overly optimistic.

The temperature drops even more as she enters the shade of the trees, the path giving way to a clearing and wooden house camouflaged between the massive pines. She’s debating hauling a sweater out of her pack when Finn appears from inside, smiling and waving her to park over by a rusting red truck and a small white car she hadn’t noticed before.

She hops out of the cabin, the familiar drop softened by damp soil and pine needles. She breathes deeply, inhaling the smell of pine and wood and nature. It should be comforting, rich and earthy, but instead it stokes the nerves roiling in her stomach.

She’s never worked on a farm before – it’s a far cry from the baked concrete and dust she grew up with; the clear-cut city lines consistent, if not exactly comforting. None of the twisting and turning of trees and rivers and paths. She could always find herself in a city. That was the devil she knew. This was like another planet.

Another shiver passes over her, and she uses it as an opportunity to shake herself a little, plastering on her friendliest smile when she turns to meet Finn. He’s jogging over the small yard to greet her, pine needles crunching underfoot, bright grin firmly in place.

“Hey! Hi, nice to meet you – I’m Finn,” he says with an outstretched hand. He’s got a kind face, warm and round, and Rey feels herself settle a little.

“Rey,” she says, clasping his hand firmly. “Thank you so much for having me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a dismissive wave and mischievous smile. “You haven’t seen where you’re sleeping yet.”

Concern furrows her brow. “Oh, that’s okay – I’ve got a tent and sleeping bag if it’s a trouble. It shouldn’t get too cold now the summer’s starting, and I’m used to wrapping up anyway – ” Finn quiets her with a chuckle.

“I’m kidding. Relax, you’ll be fine.”

Rey huffs out a breath and tries to relax her face back into a smile. “Right.”

“Come on,” he turns and starts leading her towards the house. “I’ll show you around.”

She fumbles to grab her bag from the back seat, kicking the door closed to trot after him, the familiar thud sealing her fate. Her footsteps feel too loud on the forest floor and she can’t stop the small hairs on the back of her neck rising.

 

The house is bigger than she thought. Two stories with the bedrooms nestled snugly over an open plan kitchen-living-and-dining room. Mismatched but sturdy wooden furniture fills the space, looking old but strong enough to outlive her, fire and termites notwithstanding.

The back wall hosts three huge windows gazing out over the lake. The trunks of massive trees break the line of sight, but the slope to the shore makes the shorter trees disappear down the hill, leaving the view mostly unobstructed. Cutting the closer ones would give an almost panoramic view of the lake and far-away mountains, but they give the scene an authentic feeling, like it hasn’t been exploited for its beauty like the other lakeside cabins. And it would be a crime to fell such old trees anyway.

A cast iron stove sits in the corner, throwing out heat and a rich sweet aroma. In the winter it would have been pleasant – like walking into a TV show where someone is always baking biscuits - but in the almost-summer, the interior is stuffy and stifling, the sugary smell mixing with her nerves and making her feel a bit sick. Despite herself, she almost misses the fresh pine air.

“Smells like Rose’s making cookies,” Finn says lightly. “She’s going into town in a bit. We try to sell our stuff at a farmers’ market most weekends, and then at the specialty and tourist stores whenever we can. It’s been hard though; bigger farms are undercutting us all the time. That’s why we had to start taking in work-aways – we can’t afford another full-time worker and Ben already does enough for three men – or women.”  Finn flashes her a grin. “Anyway, we keep trying to come up with new things to sell, add more value, ya know? So, we’ve been bottling fruit, drying fruit, making jam, baking cookies, we even tried making strawberry wine – but that won’t be ready ‘til next year.”

“Wow, sounds busy.” Her gaze wanders over the kitchen counters, strewn with empty and full jars, mixing bowls, scales and other such appliances.

“Well, it keeps us out of trouble,” a female voice says from just behind Rey, making her jump. She spins around, to find a short woman with a shock of black hair and big, dimpled cheeks, smiling up at her.

“Oh, sorry – didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Rose, by the way. Nice to meet you.” Her small hand is stronger than Rey expects when she shakes it – must be all the baking and jam making.

“Rey,” she replies. “Nice to meet you too. You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you!” Her smile grows a bit wider. “It’s not really ours, we just manage it. But it’s a great place, lots to do, and it’s so nice to get away from the awful city air.”

Rey nods in agreement. “It’s different for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green.”

Finn chuckles at that, coming to stand beside Rose, half-eaten biscuit in his hand. “I was the same – a city kid through and through.”

Rey’s eyebrows shoot up. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Toronto.”

She tries to ignore the tightness in her chest easing slightly at his answer. “Wow, long way.”

“Yeah, well, the owner helped me out of a pretty tight spot. He asked me to take care of his place to repay him. As a thank you.”

“Big move for a thank you.”

“It was time for a change,” he says shrugging.

“And Rose came with you?”

Some kind of tension swells between them then, an invisible bubble pushing both Rose and Finn to take a step back, doubling the distance between them.

“Oh no-”

“We’re not-”

“I was already here,” Rose finishes before Finn, who nods emphatically to the side, not meeting her eyes. “My sister owns a bar in town, I came with her and then when this place started up, I decided to branch out on my own.”

“Right,” Rey says, trying not to notice the awkward atmosphere that’s descended on them.

The three of them stand there, not making eye contact for a beat of silence, before Finn recovers his faculties. “Let me show you where you’re sleeping,” he says clapping Rey on the shoulder.

“Sure.” It comes out higher than she’s expecting, but his answering smile has her joining in. It’s easy to like Finn.

 

 

Finn leads her out the back door and down a set of rock steps that look like they’ve been carved into the shoreline rather than constructed on it. She’s quickly warming to him, her smile easy rather than forced as it so often is on the first day with a new host. He jokes as he explains the process, the hours they expect in exchange for food and board, and what there is to do in her down time. Rey nods along to the usual spiel, only half listening as she takes in her surroundings.

It’s quieter than she’d imagined; only the soft cooing of birds interrupts their easy chatter. The lake peeks through the trees, undisturbed blue glittering in the early afternoon sunshine.  Tourist season isn’t beginning for another few weeks according to Finn, so it’s still quiet out there. But soon it’ll be covered with boats and watersport-ers as the resort and camp on the other side fill up, he tells her, smile faltering slightly. She changes the subject as subtly as she can, sensing there’s a bigger story she’s not privy to. The breeze is stronger on this side of the house and Rey can’t stop herself shivering.

She’s focusing hard on a steep track of path and listening to Finn go on about the bar Rose’s sister owns and its selection of craft beer, when a loud crack startles her so badly she yelps and almost loses her footing.

“Jesus, Ben!” Finn shouts, jumping just as much as her. “I thought you were still in the field.”

Rey follows his gaze through the trees, to the dark-haired man holding an axe over a splintered piece of wood.

“Sorry,” he mutters, head dipping so his mop of sweaty hair falls into his eyes. “Thought I’d chop some wood so it’s ready for Rose and her baking.”

He steps towards them, stooping under a crop of low branches, hand raking his hair back. As he joins them on the path, Rey realises just how tall he is, towering over her and Finn by a head and then some. Slouched shoulders and a baggy t-shirt do little to hide his broad chest and thick arms, and she can’t stop her eyes from darting down to the axe still held firm in his grip.

He catches her glance, immediately placing it on a dry stump and shoving his hand through his hair. A nervous habit, apparently.

“This is Rey; the new work-away,” Finn continues, gesturing at her. She’s still a bit far for a handshake so she just juts her chin up in acknowledgement. “Rey, this is Ben. He’s our worker and all-around superhero.”

He blushes at that, a light smattering on his high cheekbones. “Not really,” he murmurs, deep voice barely audible.

“He’s just being modest,” Finn says, turning to her. “This man can pick more fruit than me and Rose combined.”

“Good with your fingers then.”

A beat passes as she realises what she’s said.  _ Shit shit shit.  _ Not the finest thing to say to the guy she’s going to spend the summer working beside. And her new host.  _ Shit _ . Heat flushes across her neck as she stares wide-eyed at Ben, who’s also turning from pink to scarlet.

Finn barks out a laugh, breaking the rolling tension. “Ha! Good one – you’ll fit in well around here.” He claps her on the back again and heads up the left fork of the path, pausing to call back: “Hay should be arriving soon, Ben – if you don’t mind unloading it when it does.”

“Sure,” she hears him mutter as she scurries after Finn, tips of her ears still burning.

 

 

The left fork takes them up a slope to a dark wood cabin that blends almost completely into the landscape. The inside is much smaller than the main house; only one room and bathroom with decidedly shabbier furniture and faded bedding. Still, it’s dry and there’s a small stove to keep warm, and Rey will have it to herself which is more than she can say for her childhood bedrooms. There’s even internet – though Finn warns her it’s slow as hell.

He doesn’t hover. Once he’s given her the password and shown her how to light the fire, he leaves quickly, trotting down the hill back to the main house. Rey doesn’t mind.

After she’s unpacked, her solitary bag of clothes and toiletries barely filling the built-in cupboard, she slumps back on the sofa, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Her fingers play with the fraying fabric as she scrolls through her phone. She doesn’t bother checking her messages – she knows they’re going to be empty.

That’s always been the way for her. She’s good at getting people to like her, smiling and nodding and always being polite, but terrible at getting people to care about her. They joke and laugh and hug her when she leaves, and sometimes drop a good review on her profile, like she was a meal they particularly enjoyed. But they don’t seem to stay in touch.

She prefers it that way. Less to keep track of. Less to miss. She doesn’t need anyone to care about her – that’s why they don’t. They know she’ll be okay without them. And she is.

 

 

Half an hour later, she’s just climbing the last few steps up to the main house when Finn appears at the back door.

“Rey,” he greets her with a smile, “I was just coming to look for you.”

“Oh?” she puffs, a little out of breath. Those steps are going to take some getting used to.

“Yeah, the hay’s just arrived but I can’t leave the stove – jam’s boiling. Can you give Ben a hand?”

Rey nods her head enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”

 

 

There’s not too much hay left in the truck when she gets there. Ben’s in the open back, muscles bulging as he heaves bale after bale onto the floor below him. Sweat makes his shirt stick, outlining the muscles in his back in a way that has Rey feeling warm.

“Hi.” Her voice is higher than normal, a twinge of her earlier embarrassment still clinging inside of her. She shakes it off. “What do you need me to do?”

Ben swings his gaze towards her, sweat stringy hair flying around in a dark halo. “Oh, uh.” His eyes rake over her thin arms and narrow shoulders. “Just start moving them into the barn, if you can.” Rey can tell that he doesn’t mean to sound patronising, but he does anyway.

“Right.” She makes a point to pick up two bales at once.

They finish in good time, Ben hopping off to settle up with the driver, head cast downward as he counts out the money. Rey’s paused for a second, trying to discreetly wipe sweat of her face, when she catches the driver’s clipped words.

“Tell Finn, next time I’m delivering to him, and only  _ him _ .”

Ben’s eyes dart towards her then, as if sensing her watching him. They’re hard as granite, dark in the shadowy light, and she suppresses a shiver under his accusatory glare. 

They drop after a moment, filling her with a strange mix of relief and confusion. Was it her the driver had a problem with? She’d never even spoken to them. Was it because she was a girl? Anger seethes through her at the idea. Sure, some people were still raging sexists, but refusing to deliver hay to a girl seems ridiculous. But then again so was all sexism. 

“Right,” Ben mutters to the ground, refusing to meet the driver’s hard gaze. The truck drives off faster than necessary, throwing loose pine needles into the bales closest to the back tires. Rey tries to muffle her anger as the sexist driver disappears through the trees, reminding herself she’s in a new place where she should try to fit in. Not go on half-hour-long tirades. At least, not yet. No promises for the next hay delivery. She makes a conscious effort to lower her shoulders and relax a little.

Once the truck is safely away, they continue bringing the bales into the barn; Ben instructing her how to pile them along the wall just so. 

“But really, you should stack them.” 

“Why?” Two wrinkles appear between Ben’s eyebrows as he scrutinises her.

“Well, you’ve got at least a foot on me.”

“All this from Miss Two-At-A-Time,” he says, mouth quirking

“I can get stronger,” she counters. “Not taller.”

“Fair enough.”

They slip into an easy rhythm: Rey bringing bales in – two at a time, of course – and Ben piling them. It feels good to be working, the tight knot in her chest loosening a bit. Rey’s always liked working with her hands. Sure, she prefers engines to barnyards, but there’s still something satisfying in watching the pile shrink, seeing she’s accomplished something. And she’s not working alone.

Her gaze keeps wandering back to Ben. First, it’s the graze of calloused fingertips on her hand as he takes a bale. Then, it’s a puff of exertion as he hefts it up, louder than normal in the quiet room. The swell of his muscles, the stick of his t-shirt even though the afternoon is cool. Even his smell, full and earthy, like he’s got woodsmoke baked into his skin, has her feeling warm and soft.

She shakes herself. She’s got to work beside him all summer, then she’s leaving. It is absolutely  _ not _ a good idea to get entangled. It’s not.

“So where are you from?” Ben asks into the quiet.

“England,” she responds automatically. “But I grew up in Jakku, New Mexico.”

“Cool.”

“Actually, it’s hot there.”

Ben lets out a startled laugh. “Right, of course.” She drops two more bales at his feet, which he hoists onto the second pile.  “How long are you travelling for?”

“A while.” It’s a vague answer. “I’m trying to figure out what to do with my life.” It’s mostly true.

“Aren’t we all?”

Now it’s Rey’s turn to chuckle. “That’s the big question, isn’t it? What do I do with my life?”

“More like, what do I do with this mess I’ve made?”

She actually, fully laughs at that. Ben is beaming too, brown eyes meeting hers. They’re warm and clear now, deeper than she thought they were, and flecked with - no. She’s not thinking about the colour of his god-damn eyes like some kind of lovestruck pre-teen. She meets them politely but drops her gaze before he can get the wrong idea. They’re strangers after all.

That’s when she sees it.

He’s reaching back, stroking his hair out of his face and she sees it, poking out under the sleeve of his t-shirt. A tattoo. The same tattoo she’s seen on the arm of every drug-pusher, knee-capper and strong-armer she’s ever met.

“Empire.”

It’s more of a hiss than a word. But Ben hears it. And his back stiffens as his joyful gaze turns to a glare. Barely a beat of silence stretches between them before he speaks.

“No, I’m not. Not anymore.” His voice is hard as ice, his cold eyes surveying her. “Please don’t tell them I’m here.” 

Rey blinks in surprise.

“Why would I tell them? I hate them.”  _ I hate you _ .

“I left them behind. I’m trying to make a fresh start after – ,” his voice cuts off, eyes dropping. A breath of silence passes.

“I don’t care.” She fixes him with a glare.

He meets it.

“There’s only one kind of person who knows about the Empire and isn’t dead – their customers.”

Rey’s face sours as the accusation sinks in. “I’d never deal with those  _ murderers _ .”

The word hits him like a slap.

“Get out.” His voice is low at first but then rises. “GET OUT!”

She flees as he roars at her. There’s a blur of dirt road and pine needles and she finds herself in the cab of her truck, hand on the gearstick and foot on the accelerator. Rey breathes hard, heart hammering, seconds away from speeding from the farm and never coming back. But she doesn’t. On a matter of principle. She won’t run any more. This time will be different. She’ll stand up to him - to them, and not let them push her from her home, or take what’s hers. Not again. 

Instead she heads back to her cabin on foot, steeling her resolve.

 

 

Later, after dinner, she asks Finn about Ben. She needs information on the enemy. Who was he? How did he get here? What did he want? She needs to know more, but must be careful how she goes about finding out. The Empire didn’t usually send in just one man on a job. 

“What’s his story?” Seems harmless enough to ask. And she trusts Finn. Must be his smile or his warm eyes, or the lack of Google results when she searched him name, but she trusts him.

“Ben?” Finn probes while clearing dishes for Rey to load the dishwasher. “He’s pretty reserved. Doesn’t talk much about himself.”

Figures. “But where’s he from?” 

“Down south – I think.” Her eyebrows draw together. That doesn’t narrow it down much. Everything is south of Canada. “He’s looking for a fresh start.”

Rey lets her brows rise, false confusion colouring her tone. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s an ex-con. The whole town knows it, but nobody knows what he did. He was under 18 when he was convicted, so the records are sealed. There are loads of rumours about it, but he’s trying for a clean start.” He shrugs, hands wet from rinsing dishes. “And he’s always been decent – more than decent – with us. He’s a good worker, so I don’t hold it against him.”

“Sure,” is all Rey can manage in response, a new tightness forming in her chest.

 

Guilt starts to bubble in her as she digests this information, sapping her appetite for dessert or even an evening shower. He was under eighteen when he was convicted. He was a teenager mixed up to his neck in god-knows-what, pushed by his friends or neighbours or teachers into a life he didn’t want but didn’t know how to escape. She could have been him if she hadn’t been lucky enough to get out of Jakku when she did. Lucky enough to have been driven out when she was.

A leaden blanket of guilt settles over her as she tries to sleep. She tosses and turns restlessly, his look of hurt flashing before her eyes as she calls him murderer over and over.  Even in the darkness and solitude, her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t have judged him so quickly. He was looking for a fresh start - just like she was. That was all that mattered. She should apologize tomorrow.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus points for anyone who can pick out all the star wars puns

His breath comes out in ragged huff, thundering pulse drowning out the last of Rey’s fleeing footsteps. His face is burning, hands clenched by his side.

_ Why did he do that? _ The force of his shout has him almost bent double. But he makes no move to straighten.

_ What kind of idiot would do that?  _ Instead he stares at the empty space she’s left, willing his palms to stop sweating and his heart rate to return to normal.

If she didn’t hate him before, she definitely does now. He can still feel her eyes raking him with freezing contempt. He’s just proved everything she assumed about him right. Hot shame wells in his belly. Months of work, of trying to be better, of keeping his temper in check, thrown out the window.

And now she’s going to tell Finn. He’s going to get fired. The only people in town who don’t scowl when they see him will finally turn on him. Ben heaves a resigned sigh and peels his eyes away from where Rey was, looking down at the pile of bales waiting to be stacked. It’s not like he didn’t see it coming.  With a final heavy huff, he straightens and starts stacking them again. If he keeps his hands busy, he can’t think about Rey or what she might be telling Finn.

At least that’s how it works in theory. After a few minutes of arm-aching work that has his heart rate up and his shirt damp with sweat, his anger starts building.

He’s going to lose everything – again – because some girl fresh out of the desert couldn’t wait two seconds for him to just _explain_. He tugs a bale with a bit more force than necessary, sending a shower of straws over the floor. If she’d just waited before fucking judging him, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He was the one that was going to be out of here with no job, no rent money, nothing. And it was her fault.

Ben grabs another bale – hard – and this time the tie holding it snaps, emptying a load of dust and straw into the open top of his work boots. He drops the bale and kicks it in frustration, his foot colliding with a satisfying thump. He kicks again, the shock ricocheting up his leg. His arms swing for balance as his foot collides, again and again. His hair is in his eyes, so he closes them, lashing out like an animal. A feral growl rips through his chest and he feels like he’s lost his mind to this – this fantasy that he can take his anger out on something.

He stops mid-swing. The rage that fuelled him a moment before chills like quenched steel. His eyes open to the mess before him, strewn straw and dust covering the ground, and the silence broken only by his laboured breathing. There’s no one else here. No one else to take his anger out on. No one else to blame. Only himself.

 

 

The sun is sinking quickly behind the horizon when Ben finally gets back to his apartment. Finishing up in the barn took a lot longer than usual and he’d hit the last of the rush hour traffic when he had to cross town. At least the drive had given him a chance to come up with contingency plans for when Finn fires him. He could head back east, see if there was any summer work in the cities there. Or pick a faded map dot of a town and become a barback or handyman or something. He had options.

His temper had cooled in that time too, leaving icy shame in its wake. He’d done exactly what she was afraid of and then tried to blame her for it. He was such an asshole. He tries not to dwell on how her smile melted into fear when she recognised his tattoo. He’d seen it happen before. He’d never seen that smile come back.

Ben steps on a pile of bills behind the door but can’t summon the will to pick them up. Instead he crosses the room in two strides and collapses onto his lumpy bed, fully clothed with his boots still on. It’s cold inside, the temperature dropping with the sun, and he watches with intense fascination as the hairs on his arm raise. He can’t even be asked to pull the blanket over himself.

Finn had offered to let him live in the cabin on the land for the summer. He’d offered last year as well. Ben turned him down both times. It wasn’t the place for him. He needed space. The people he got close to tended to end up hurt.

For a moment he lets himself imagine living there – eating breakfast and dinner together, sharing inside jokes and stories, planning movie nights and campfires and days out on the lake. Finn, Rose, and now Rey, all smiling and glad to see him. And he’s happy too, grinning widely, not his usual surly self. They make him lighter.

The ache for that reality is like metal clamping around his heart.

But the dream flutters away as quickly as it comes; starting with the look in Rey’s eyes when he yelled at her and ending with Ben alone in his quickly darkening apartment, fists clenched in his thin, scratchy blanket.

It’s a while before he can release them.

 

 

The next morning it’s hard for him to get up. He’d lain away half the night, haunted by Rey, her voice echoing around him.  _ Empire. Empire. Empire _ . Over and over. It followed him into restless dreams, joined by nameless, faceless whisperers whose accusing eyes raked over him until he felt raw.

Now he lays in bed, still and sore, as his alarm blares beside him. He’s going to have to see her today. Talk to her. Apologise. The thought has his stomach clenching, and for some reason, his cock filling out.

Unbidden, another image rises in his mind’s eye: Rey squatting down, brow furrowed as she insisted on moving two bales at once. The swell of her butt through her denim shorts as she strode towards the barn.

His cock twitches at that, more awake than the rest of him. It’s hot and straining against the fabric of the jeans he slept in. With a groan, he unzips his fly and tugs it, only meaning to shift into a more comfortable position.

He remembers the way she huffed with effort – low and throaty and incredibly sexy – and how she laughed when he teased her. The flush of her cheeks in the afternoon sunlight. The pucker of her rosy lips, so plump and soft he can almost imagine kissing them. He tugs again, almost moaning at the sensation. In his mind she looks at him, pupils blown wide, a delicate bead of sweat running down her neck, and then…

Reality slams into him like a train.  _ Empire. _ The fear clouding in her hazel eyes. His stomach twists painfully, and he forces himself from the bed, as if he can leave the image behind him if he moves fast enough.

Ben gasps as the cold water hits him hard on the chest, waking him up properly. But it doesn’t have the desired effect on his cock, that’s still standing proud. He contemplates jerking off, running a hand over the head absentmindedly. But the only image he can conjure is of Rey; the small swell of her chest as she meandered behind Finn, the sway of her hips as she climbed the stairs to the cabin.

_ No.  _ He stills, the now-warm water continuing to fall around him. He won’t do this thinking of her. That road only leads to destruction.

Instead, he tries to imagine his favourite actress’ mouth stretched around his cock. She’s blonde, not brunette like Rey. And her lips are bright red, not Rey’s natural dusty rose, and definitely not the flushed pink they turned when she chewed them.

Damn it, just  _ how _ had he noticed so much about this girl in one day? It was like she’d worked herself under his skin, like some kind of bacteria or parasite or something. It must be his guilt. His lizard brain was rerouting “guilty” to “horny” and that was it.

Frustrated, he steps out of the shower. That little session had done nothing to release his pent-up energy, but he’s already running late, and he’d rather be frustrated and horny than guilty about yelling at her  _ and _ jerking it to her like some god damn teenager. It’ll be awkward enough when he sees her in any case. No need to add fuel to the fire. Keeping a clear head is what he needs.

 

 

_ Keep a clear head. _ Ben repeats it like a mantra while he gets dressed and hops in the car. If he can keep a clear head, he could still salvage this situation. He just needs to calm down and keep a clear head.

He gets to work a bit late, yawning in the chilled morning air. It’s Sunday, which means farmers’ market day. His least favourite day of the week. It also means double pay (that Finn insists he gets) which is why Ben still turns up. Even though whenever he’s at the stall people seem to forget it exists. Finn and Rose are just too nice to tell him to fuck off. But he can tell they want him to.

Ben can see Finn loading up the car already as he drives up to his usual spot. Rey’s truck is next to him, and he takes extra care not to clip it with his door as he gets out. Not that it couldn’t take it – it’s a solid vehicle, probably older than she is.

“’Morning, Ben,” Finn calls, arms full of jam jars. Ben’s stomach drops, waiting for the inevitable ‘We need to talk’ but it never comes. Finn’s smiling, as friendly as always.

“’Morning,” he replies, voice tinted with confusion. Finn doesn’t seem to notice.

“Late start today?” His voice is muffled as he leans into the car trunk.

“Yeah.” Ben scrubs a hand through his hair and realises he forgot to comb it.  _ So much for a clear head _ , he thinks sullenly as he tries to flatten it with his fingers. “Didn’t sleep much.”

“Must be something going around – Rey said she was awake all night too.”

Ben can feel his cheeks heating up. “Really?” he mutters, dropping Finn’s gaze. Finn doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, she was pretty quiet at breakfast too. Said she had a lot on her mind.”

As if called by some mysterious force, Rey appears then, trotting down the house steps in a comically large maroon sweater and jeans tight enough that Ben’s wishing he could revisit the shower.  _ Clear head, clear head, clear head,  _ he chants.

She stops just short of where they’re chatting by the cars. Ben’s pulse is ticking up in his neck and, try as he might, he can’t bring himself to look her in the eye. Instead he settles for awkwardly staring at the ground by her feet. He must look like such a weirdo.

“Hey,” she says quietly, half raising her hand like she had yesterday.

“Hey,” Ben manages to grunt back. He needs to get a grip – he’s acting like a fucking teenager. It’s not like she’s the first person he’s shouted at. Definitely not the first person he’s shouted at and then had to work with. The world is chock-full of assholes and he wasn’t awkward around any of them.

Okay, maybe she’s prettier than most, and actually seems like a decent person. And sure, he’s had a bit of a dry spell since word got around about his shadowy past. But he’s a grown man, he shouldn’t be clamming up just looking at a girl in some tight jeans. No, it must be the guilt or whatever from yesterday. That’s what’s making him act like he’s got a stick up his ass.

“How does that sound, Ben?”

Ben blinks. “What?”

Finn flashes pearly teeth at him as he closes the car trunk. “You catch him up, Rey.” He claps Ben on the back, turning to head inside. “Miles away, this one.”

They watch him stride back to the house in silence. Tension stretches between them thick enough that Ben can almost see it like delicate fog in the morning air. Ben risks a glance at her, but her eyes are still fixed where Finn disappeared from view. The silence is stretching on too long. It’s obvious that they can both feel the tension, and breaking it is like taking a plunge into the lake in January – something Ben swore he’d only do once.

In the end, Rey’s braver than he is.

“Finn wants us to get started on the daily tasks and then he’ll come find me when they head into town. He said you can stay here and finish up if you don’t want to go,” she says in a rush, like getting it out quickly will make it easier.

“Oh.” That was nice of Finn. “Right. That’s good.” 

“Yeah.” She’s chewing the skin by her nails, only half looking at him, waiting for a better response.

He scrambles around for something else to say. “Well, should we – er – get started?” Rey nods. “Okay, let’s do the stable first.”

 

 

Any of the lingering tension dissipates when Rey sees the horse milling about the stable. She’s never seen a horse in real life before, she tells him, almost bouncing with excitement. Ben almost manages a smile at that.

He thinks about offering to teach her to ride but decides it would be too awkward. Still, it wouldn’t be too hard; old R2 might have plenty of personality, but he’s never thrown a rider. Maybe later in the summer. It worries Ben a little how much he looks forward to that. If he doesn’t get fired, that is.

But as they set down to work – Ben mucking the stable, Rey brushing R2 – the tension rises again. This time it’s more subtle, a rising tide that creeps up on him until all he can think about is how awfully he acted yesterday and why he can’t seem to get this apology past his teeth and that he really needs to because she could still go to Finn and get him fired if he doesn’t just fucking  _ apologise _ .

He’s still trying to figure out how to bring it up when Rey does for him.

“I’m sorry.” Ben looks up. She’s watching him with surprising earnestness, her light eyes shadowed by drawn brows.

“What?”

“About yesterday. I’m sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did. It wasn’t fair.”

Okay. He was not expecting that. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I judged you before I even –” she breaks off, looking embarrassed. “I asked Finn about you.” Their eyes meet for the first time that morning. “I didn’t realise you were so young when they got to you.”

Ben stiffens. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right, of course,” Rey says quickly, but Ben can see she looks a little dejected. If ever there was a time to swallow his pride…

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was a dick move.”

“I yelled at you first.” She reaches her hand out to him. “Let’s put it behind us.”

Her eyebrows are drawn together in focus, like they were at a world summit, not in a stable. Ben can’t help the corner of his mouth tugging upward at her seriousness.

He takes her hand and shakes it firmly. “It’s behind us.”

That’s the moment that R2 decides he’s been ignored long enough, and whinnies loud enough to make Rey jump. She lands a hairsbreadth from Ben’s foot and he has to grab her arm so she doesn’t fall over onto him.

He steadies her, jaw flexing along with his hands as they close around her. He swallows. For a second, he’s barely able to remember their conversation or why he’d been so worried earlier; all he can focus on is how silky her tanned skin feels under his calloused fingertips. Rey’s blushing, her freckled cheeks turning a deep pink as she meets his gaze.

“Sorry.” Embarrassment colours her voice. “I guess I’m not used to horses yet.”

“I could always teach you,” Ben says before he can think better of it.

“What?”

His tongue feels too big in his mouth, making words hard to get out. “Riding. I could teach you riding.”

“Horse-riding?”

“Yeah.”

Her gaze falls and Ben realises his arm is still wrapped around her. He drops it quickly, taking a step back for good measure. They just made up; he doesn’t want to freak her out. He risks a glance at her and, to his dismay, she’s still blushing hard, eyes firmly planted on her shoes.  _ Shit _ .

“You don’t have to –”

“No, I’d love to.” She’s chewing her nail again, and Ben can’t seem to look away from the flush of her lips. “It’s just – I mean –” She looks unsure. “Is it safe?”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s safe. R2’s never thrown a rider. And I’ll be there to catch you.” Nope. No. Not a good choice of words. “I mean, I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Rey’s blush has disappeared, replaced with a small smirk and cocked eyebrow, as if she’s enjoying him tripping over his tongue trying not to sound like a creepy idiot.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. No, of course not. I’d love to.”  _ Creepy idiot. _ “It’ll give me something to do in the afternoons.”

“That sounds great.”

Her smile is beaming; wide enough to crinkle her eyes and a show her teeth. Open and honest and  _ happy _ . It tugs on something inside Ben. Jealousy, he thinks, until he realises that it’s a real smile. For him. And the little bloom of hope it brings to his chest scares him more than any jealousy could. But he can’t help a little smile back.

 

 

Finn turns up just as they’re about to feed the chickens. The work has gone easy since their chat in the barn; Rey’s quick to pick up the chores and eager to prove her hand at farm work. She even insisted on cleaning R2’s shoes, and did a pretty good job of it, if Ben is honest.

“Ready to head off, Rey?” Finn’s voice easily carries over the excited clucking.

“Sure,” she says, brushing her hands clean on her jeans. Ben resists the urge to check if she’s got dirt on her butt. “I’ll just go wash up and meet you at the car.”

“Cool.” Finn turns to Ben, jerking his head at the coop. “You good to hold the fort down here?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Ben shrugs. “Probably better than me hanging around the stall, anyway.”

“Ah, come on, man. You know you can come if you want to.”

Ben nods. “Sure.”

There’s a beat of silence where Finn and Rey, still hanging around despite her announced departure, look expectantly at him. Ben’s not really sure what more they want him to say. Maybe they’re waiting for him to change his mind. Fat chance.

“Well, I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yeah, see you.” Finn raises a hand as he turns away.

“Bye – see you later.” Rey bids him a cheery goodbye, flashing him a bright smile like before.  _ Another _ genuine smile. Ben must be getting close to his yearly quota already, and summer’s barely begun. The thought tugs at him a little.

 

 

The sun seems to have taken the chilly morning on as a personal challenge. It streams down over the strawberry field, turning the air into a sweltering sauna and whipping the insects into a frenzy. Ben isn’t sure if it’s dehydration making his ears ring or the flap of a million tiny wings. He straightens for a moment, groaning as his stiff hamstrings and back stretch out, and stares longingly at the shade of the trees falling coolly just a few yards short of his current task.

Something catches the corner of his eye. For a second, he thinks it’s a bug, but it quickly morphs into Finn’s car driving up the lane. That was a quick farmer’s market trip. Their sales must have picked up without him there to scare away customers. Scowling into the blazing sunlight, he raises a hand in greeting, before bending down to continue picking. He pretends it’s the heat making his heart rate rise.

A few minutes later, Rey joins him. She’s traded her oversized sweater and jeans for a loose top and running shorts. Very short running shorts. Suddenly, Ben is very grateful for the sun and how acceptable it makes his burning cheeks. It’s the sun. Definitely.

He stands up as she approaches, thrusting a hand through his sweaty lank hair before she can see just how disgusting it is. He took his shirt off about half an hour ago in an effort to even out his farmer’s tan – a choice he desperately regrets as he catches a glimpse of his blinding white stomach.

She stops just before him, hugging a large mixing bowl to her belly. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He shoves a hand through his hair again, but doubts it does any good. “How was town?”

“Huh?” She looks distracted, her eyes darting over his bare chest and arms before they catch on his tattoo, just visible on his upper tricep. Ben can almost feel the shot of hate the thing causes her. He should get it removed. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t.

“Oh, town was good. We sold all the jam and biscuits – except the ones Finn ate.” A small grin flits across her face. “How’ve the chores been?”

“Fine,” Ben shrugs. “I’ve mostly just been out here.”

“It’s a huge strawberry patch. How long does it take to pick?”

“A few hours. Feels like forever.”

“I can imagine.”

He can feel the soft graze of her gaze on his face. It has him feeling oddly brave, eager to see if he can earn another smile. 

“You know that song ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’? They wrote it about this field.”

Rey titters with laughter at his bad joke, making the corner of Ben’s lip tug up with her. 

“You have such old man taste,” she says, nose crinkling as she teases him.

“What? That song’s a classic. Especially if you spend half your life in a strawberry field.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, but you have to be at least 45 to unironically enjoy The Beatles.”

“How can you say that? You’re British.”

“Only by birth. I moved to the States when I was little. I lived in Jakku, New Mexico my whole life, before I left.”

“Oh.” He should have figured that out. How else would she know about the Empire? “For your parents’ work or something?”

“Something like that.” Her voice is still calm, but the muscles in her face tighten. Ben nods dismissively. He gets it – her past is no one’s business, least of all his.

 

 

They pick strawberries until the sun reaches its peak and it gets too hot to continue. They decide to leave the rest for tomorrow – promising that they’ll do them before it warms up – and head back to the house with their haul.

Rey sighs with relief as they reach the shade of the trees, using the edge of her shirt to wipe sweat off her forehead. Ben’s eye catches the flat tan of her stomach and he chokes on the water he’s chugging. Her eyes swivel curiously towards him, framed by her flushed cheeks and wisps of damp hair.

“Dry throat,” he manages to sputter. Rey shrugs, continuing towards the house. Ben shakes himself before he follows her. He really needs to get a grip. “Guilt to horny” malfunction or not, she’s just a girl.

Rose is in the kitchen when he finally makes it to the door. She’s laughing at something Rey’s just said, the apples of her cheeks flushed red in the warm interior. Even more baked goods line the counter tops in the sweltering kitchen, and Ben has to nudge a tray to the side so he can put his two bowls of berries down.

“You two’ve been busy,” Rose says, raising her eyebrows at the bowls.

“Could say the same to you,” he responds, voice low and deep. It’s hot in here and he really wants to get back out. He’ll take the sun over this sickly-sweet sauna.

“Is that all the chores done?” Rey pipes up. Ben nods and her smile grows wide enough to show her teeth. “So, can we go horse-riding now?”

The pit drops out of Ben’s stomach, his mouth searching for the words to let her down easiest.

“It’s a bit too warm right now. The poor horse won’t take it,” Rose jumps in, seeing the look on his face. “Why don’t you two go for a swim instead? You look awfully hot.”

Ben looks down at his t-shirt, now sticking to his chest with sweat. A swim does sound good. “I don’t know, there’s still some chores…”

“Nonsense, Ben.” Rose plants herself before him, hands on her hips. She’s barely shoulder height, but the strength of her tone more than makes up for it. “You work so hard to keep this place running, you might as well enjoy it once in a while.”

“I don’t have any shorts.”

“Well, then it’s a treat for me and Rey.”

He knows Rose is teasing him but his cheeks still flush beet red. “Very funny,” he mutters, risking a glance at Rey. She’s blushing hard too, not meeting his eyes. Instead he catches her gaze flitting over his sweat-sticky shoulders and arms.

“Oh fine, I’ll grab some of Finn’s,” Rose says with a wave of her hand. She disappears upstairs, leaving him and Rey in the swirling tension. They stand in silence for a moment before Rey excuses herself.

“I guess I’ll go get changed.” A glorious breeze wafts in the door as she opens it. “See you down by the dock.” She slips away, shutting it with a crunch, leaving Ben alone in the kitchen.

 

 

A few minutes later, Ben is standing on the rough wood dock, bare foot and chested, wearing Finn’s slightly too tight swimming shorts. It feels weird, relaxing on a dock where he works. He feels like he should at least sweep it or something. With half-hearted effort, he tries to kick the pine needles that litter the planks into the water. Technically, that makes them someone else’s problem.

Sure, Finn let him borrow the kayak on his day off a few weeks ago, but that was different. He brought back a fish for them. It was basically renting the thing. Not just lazing around in front of his boss.

Still, it’s nice in the muted sunshine down at the shore. He’d jumped in quickly when he first got there; more to rinse the sweat out of his hair than anything. Now he lays on his back, feet dangling in the water, sunshine warming his water-cooled skin and making his hair stick up where it’s drying. His eyes are closed against the light, making a pink-yellow display on the back of his eyelids, when he hears footsteps on the warped wood.

He sits up, dazed eyes blinking as he picks out the sound’s source. He blinks again when he sees her, for a completely different reason.

Rey stands before him, tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight, a black bathing suit peeking out from under an oversized shirt. She’s tying up her hair, towel clutched between her knees. Ben wishes he was that towel. No, shit – he can’t think creepy stuff like that around her. They work together. That’s it.

“Coming in?” she asks, discarding her towel and over-shirt. She’s chewing the side of her thumb again, watching him watch her. Ben immediately drops his gaze and prays desperately that she doesn’t think he’s as weird as he’s acting.

“Yep,” he manages to get out, voice tight and gravelly.

Before he can force out anymore words, Rey jumps in, showering him in cold water. He yelps, catching the flash of a mischievous grin from where Rey is swimming away from him. With a push off the dock, he joins her, making up the distance between them in a few kicks.

Rey doesn’t slow for him though. Instead she speeds up, moving with more ease than he expected from someone who grew up in the desert. They swim out for a while, until they’ve cleared the shade of the trees and the water is warmer, baked in the afternoon sunshine.

Ben hasn’t swum in a while, and hardly ever with any strength or effort. He can feel the sing of back muscles working in a new way, the kick in his hamstrings where they’re too tight. The water works him loose, finding all the kinks from lifting and picking and sleeping on a crappy bed.

“You’re a pretty good swimmer,” he calls, voice loud over the quiet water.

Rey throws a smile over her shoulder at him. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m starting to get that.”

Rey stops just before him, turning to face him in the glittering light.  Her hair is wet despite the tie and curling in wisps around her face and shoulders. The sun catches behind it, turning it into a golden halo and making the droplets kissing her face shimmer.

“I swam a lot in the community pool in Jakku. I just love the feeling of the water.” She makes a show of laying back and poking a leg in the air. Breath catches in his chest, a tightening feeling constricting his airways. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t stop. The tightening spreads from his chest to his shorts, but he can’t check how obvious it is.  It would be physically painful to look away from her in this moment.

“It makes me feel free.”

Ben tries to steady himself, inhaling deeply through his nose. The smell of lake water washes over him, earthy but sweeter than he remembers, like grass in the summer, fresh and natural.

He wants to wrap his arms around her. It’s all he can think about. He’s close enough that he can feel the wash of water from her limbs as she treads next to him. She’d be so smooth, fit so well beside him. Just one touch, that’s all. He could brush his foot against hers, wipe a droplet off her cheek, kiss her perfect, sparkling lips. He’d take anything, everything, she’d give him.

“Do I have something on my face?” The words clamp down on him like an iron fist, a hook hauling him back to reality. Reality where Rey’s looking at him, expecting an answer that’s not ‘all my hopes and dreams.’

“Oh, no. Just avoiding the light.”

He can’t imagine what he looks like right now.  _ A creepy idiot.  _ That’s what he is. She’d never be with someone like him. He’d never deserve someone like her. He’s already proved that a dozen times today.

Anger flares inside him, and he’s suddenly on the verge of tears. He’s fucked this up in every possible way. He let himself have a new hope, even though he knew it was pointless. He rubs his eyes hard, pretending it’s lake water gone astray.

He shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake.

“I have to go.” He takes a stroke back towards the shore. 

“What?” 

Another stroke, and he has to call back to her. “I gotta go.”

He can’t do this. He can’t drag Rey into his messed-up life, can’t let her see all the ghosts haunting him. He needs to get away.

“Oh,” he hears her say. “Okay. See you tomorrow.” There’s a twinge in her voice that has his chest clamping down and his hind brain screaming at him to turn around.

“See you.” The lake swallows his words as he rushes back to shore.

 

 

He doesn’t bother drying off as he climbs into his car. He’s still wearing Finn’s trunks, his t-shirt slung around his neck. He shoves his arms into it while he’s driving down the lane, steering with his knee. His heart is hammering, breath coming fast and shallow. Somehow the tent in his shorts is still standing proud, but he ignores it.

He manages to make it home without hitting anyone. The door bounces off the wall as he swings it open, making a beeline for the bathroom. Seconds later he’s stripped off and in the shower, tepid water thankfully washing the smell of the lake away. The memory of Rey so close to him, the light in her hair.

He huffs as he finally takes himself in hand. It feels like an eternity has passed since this morning. If he can just get this out of his system, it’ll be easier. He should have made sure to finish then. He would’ve acted better. He’s just horny. He just needs to get it out of his system.

A dollop of conditioner makes the slide smoother, eliciting a groan. A fantasy starts forming – a canoe ride to the edge of the lake, a waterfall that feeds into it there. He runs his hand over smooth skin, hot and soft under his touch. In his mind, arms slide around his neck as he rocks into a faceless girl. Blonde. She’s definitely blonde.

Ben moans, speeding his stroke. The muscles in his back sing like they had earlier, as he thrusts eagerly, chasing his release. His free hand comes to rest on the shower wall, forehead pressing into the cool tile beside it. Water runs down his back and over his face, falling like a curtain between him and the world.

_Please,_ the imaginary girl hisses. _I want more._ _I need you._

He buries his face in her neck, breathing in her floral perfume. His hands press into the soft swell of her ass, as he bottoms out with a tight squeeze of his hand.

_ Are you sure? _ he whispers.

The girl moans in response, her gaze meeting his, mouth curving into a smile.  _ What can I say, I’m full of surprises. _

That’s enough to pull him over the edge. He comes with a strangled cry, spilling once, twice, three times until he’s shaking and gripping the shower tap for support. It’s like a fire’s been quenched under his skin as he draws a breath for what feels like the first time in hours.

Ben shuts off the water and starts towelling off. His limbs feel leaden now, the weight of the day settling down on him. Eyelids dropping, he heads to the bed with barely the energy to pull on sweatpants before his head hits the pillow.

That was definitely what he needed. He’s got it out of his system now. Tomorrow will be better. He drifts off with a tentative weed of hope still rooted somewhere in his chest. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello! Sorry this has taken soooo long, but it is a bit of a beast of a chapter, and life has made writing regularly basically impossible. Excuses, excuses, I know... But enjoy the chapter! The fic is not forgotten - Chapter 4 has been planned and is in the works!

It’s colder here than she expected. Rey sits cross legged on the rough wood of the dock, breath fogging slightly in the chilled air. She’s got a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while she hugs a steaming cup of tea. 

It’s not long past dawn; the purple haze of sleep still clinging to the world. The lake is glassy, a perfect mirror of the surrounding landscape. She can hear birds chirping here and there, their quiet cooing letting her know she’s not alone. A breeze sighs through the trees and Rey sighs with it, letting her shoulders drop down her back.

She never realised how much tension she was carrying until she came here. All her life she’d felt like a cat on a burning tin roof and now she’s finally getting the chance to stretch out in the sun. There’s no reason to be on edge here. No distant siren or arguing neighbours or corner to defend. She can breathe. Just breathe.

Everything is connected here. She can feel it. The lake and the life that thrums around it. The birds, fishes, insects, and the dark stillness of its depths that feed that life. The warmth of the sun as it shines in the sky and the cold that follows with the night. Between them all there’s something. An energy. A balance. A force.

It acts on her too. She’s a part of it here, in a way she never was before. Or perhaps it had always been there, and only now she’s awake to notice it. The yield of soft soil underfoot, the buzz of insects in the evening, rough bark against the palm of her hand. She feels connected here, like she can experience the world without fear of it rejecting her, without worrying about fitting into rigid lines. She’s a part of the balance too.

Gentle ripples disturb the indigo water as a fish breaks the surface. Her eyes follow it as it disappears into the clear deep. It reminds her of the swim yesterday—her first in the lake—the cool water a blissful sanctuary from the afternoon heat. 

Rey loves the water;  it makes her feel free. It doesn't care that she’s broken. It doesn't care that she can’t fit in anywhere else. That the world is full of melodies and she’s just off key. Try as she might she can’t seem to harmonise with anyone. 

That’s why she spends her spare time mostly with machines. Sure, it had started as a job—Plutt, her foster father, had insisted she work at his scrap yard to ‘pay her way’. He was a real bastard, holding out food or hot water if she didn't get her jobs done, but she enjoyed the work. She enjoyed taking something discarded and making it whole again. 

She had a knack for cars particularly. She could always tell what that rattle was or which pieces could be salvaged for other engines. Cars were simple, a puzzle with a straightforward answer. She got cars. People not so much.

She always managed to fuck it up with people. She started caring too much too quickly or shared something about her past and they’d realise she wasn’t who they’d thought. They’d realise she didn’t fit with them and they’d leave, fading into the dregs of her memory. So many had left her that she couldn’t even remember their faces anymore. They all blurred together and somehow she ended up staring at her own reflection. Drawn to the inevitable conclusion that she was the problem.

“You’re up early.” Ben’s deep voice sounds behind her, bringing her out of her reverie. She twists to see him standing on the last of the stone steps, eyes fixed dead ahead, staring at the lake. They’re soft, the skin around them pink and puffy in the early morning. It makes him look younger.

“I wanted to watch the sunrise,” she says, turning back to face the water. She ignores the twinge of rejection that accompanies the memory of his departure yesterday. It doesn’t matter, she reminds herself. It was just a swim.

The dock creaks as Ben’s boots advance over it. He sinks down next to her, so they’re both sat cross legged at the water’s edge. 

“It’s really beautiful.” His words are a low rumble she can almost feel in the still air. She sneaks a glance at him, but his eyes are still locked ahead.

“Yeah,” she breathes. His nose is sharper than she remembered, coupled with a strong jaw framed by wispy dark hair. It looks silky soft and her fingers itch to run through it. She interlaces them tightly around her mug instead.

The world seems to shift around them as they sit in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, not something Rey feels should be filled, not a result of her lacking conversation. It’s a quiet retreat, an unspoken solidarity between them. Like they’ve slipped into their own little parallel universe where outside troubles or differences are kept temporarily at bay. Two forgotten souls at the edge of the world.

Distantly, Rey hears the house door shutting. Ben must have heard it too because he stirs, turning and then standing.

“Should probably get to work.”

“Right,” Rey reluctantly agrees. 

Ben’s holding a hand out to help her up and she takes it, her slim fingers engulfed in warmth. Gently, he guides her to her feet, until she’s standing just inches from him. She can feel the warm wash of his breath, coffee and mint and still, somehow, woodsmoke. It teases her enough that she risks a glance at his face, only to find his gaze, just as focused and intense as when he was watching the lake, trained on her. Her breath catches, stomach dropping, but she can’t drop her eyes; they’re held in place by an inexplicable pull. It holds her there too, standing just too close, hand still covered by his. 

It wants to push her nearer, like an invisible hand on the small of her back, urging her to collapse into him. Of their own accord, her eyes wander to his lips, two rose petals, full and stained deep pink, parted slightly. She wonders what kissing them would be like, if their brush against her skin was as velvety as they look. 

Rey can’t pretend she isn’t tempted. She could do it. She could let herself be drawn into his arms, feel the sold expanse of his chest against her, run her hands through his soft mop of hair. Her imagination conjures the image for her; Ben flush-faced and breathless, letting her trace the elegant curve of his jaw with her lips. Thick arms wrapping around her. The graze of stubble on her cheek. Some fun for the summer, that’s all. She can’t pretend she isn’t tempted.

If Rey was someone else, she would have. If she was someone who could trust herself not to get too attached, she would have been able to enjoy kissing Ben. If they were two different people, they could have been together.

But they weren’t.

Better not to get attached. Better not to risk it.

“Thanks.” She slips away from him, hand suddenly cold where he’s no longer holding it.

She feels differently as she climbs back up the stairs. As if there’s a part of herself that stayed at the shore. An alternative version that was brave enough to stay. Rey wonders if that was the better version or not.

 

 

 

The house feels distinctly more solid than the lakeside, the heated interior yanking Rey back into reality. Rose needs help in the kitchen today, cutting and cooking all the strawberries Rey and Ben picked yesterday. She’s already stirring a batch on the stove, face glistening with a light sheen of sweat even in the cool morning.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d started,” Rey apologizes as she settles to start washing and chopping.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Rose waves away her apology. “Finn said you were down at the dock.”

Blush fills Rey’s cheeks. “I was watching the sunrise,” she says as innocently as she can. 

“It’s a lovely view,” Rose nods. She makes no mention of Ben, so neither does Rey. She’s not even sure there’s anything to mention, anyway.

“I’ve never seen anything like it—the stillness, the calm.”

“It makes it worth running this madhouse. Moments like that.” Rose’s warm brown eyes are wrinkled with a smile. “Although I bet you’ve seen some even more amazing stuff on your travels.”

Rey shrugs. “I’ve mostly been taking childcare jobs in cities. It’s a cheap way to stay there.”

“Cities have never really been my scene,” Rose says conversationally. “Too many people. Too much noise. I’m a small town girl at heart.”

“They can be tough.”

“You grew up in a city, right? Jakko or something, wasn’t it?” Rose is watching the jam, so she doesn’t see Rey stiffen involuntarily at the mention of the place.

“Jakku, yeah.”

“Is it nice?” 

“Not really.” That draws Rose’s inquisitive gaze. “It’s a factory town—a dying one—plonked in the middle of the desert. Full of abandoned warehouses and not much else.” Unless you count murderous coyotes and drug dealers and undocumented families forced to work for nothing.  

“Oh.” Rose falters slightly. “I guess that explains why you decided to go travelling.”

Rey shifts her balance from one foot to the other. “Yeah. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

It was a well worn lie. _ I came from a shithole. I’m never going back. _ Her hosts didn’t need to know the truth, that she’d hung around Jakku for as long as she could, mixing with the worst of people trying to scrape up some scrap of information about her parents. She’d managed to hold out until she was nineteen, lying about her age to the social workers so Plutt would keep getting cheques. They were understaffed and her birth records were back in the UK, so they never bothered checking up.

But eventually she had to officially turn eighteen, and once that happened she was out on her arse. With nowhere to stay and no friends to speak of, she had to face the truth—her parents had left Jakku. They’d left and found somewhere else to settle. Somewhere without so many prying eyes, where they could lie low until it was safe to come back and get her. 

She knew they were mixed up in trouble. She remembered her mum and dad arguing about how they were going to pay off debts. It was one of her earliest memories. She’d actually asked the social worker what it meant, ‘debts’. He’d said it was a grown up word and she shouldn’t worry about it. But Rey had never forgotten.

So she set off, travelling to the biggest cities near Jakku, and then not so near, looking for them. They were out there, waiting, hoping that she’d find them, and she couldn’t just give up on that. Then they could be a family again. It was the thought that sustained her, that kept her moving.

 

 

 

The morning passed in a blur of red pulp and warmth. Rey was surprised by how accustomed to the sweet smell she got; it didn’t even register after the first hour. That must be how Rose managed to make a hundred jars a week.

There was no getting used to the heated interior, though. The day was, thankfully, not as hot as Sunday, but the stove was throwing out heat and Rey and Rose were soon stripping off outer layers, leaving Rey in a black camisole and jeans and Rose in shorts and an oversized t-shirt of Finn’s. 

“What’s going on with you and Finn anyway?” Rey voices the question now she’s finally got Rose alone.

Rose’s cheeks are already flushed from the heat, but Rey can tell the pink deepens as she avoids her eyes.

“Nothing. Why?”

“Well,” Rey tries to find the best way to phrase this. “You live together. You work together. But you’re not… together.” The word hangs in the air between them.

“Right.”

“Why?”

Rose shrugs, not taking her eyes off the steaming pot she’s stirring. “Why would we be together?”

“I don’t know,” Rey says with teasing sarcasm, “because you look great together, you have great chemistry and you make goo-goo eyes at him every time he walks into a room.” She quirks the corner of her mouth up as she finally manages to meet Rose’s eyes.

To her surprise, Rose drops her gaze. 

“It’s not like that.” Her voice is tight and Rey lets silence lapse back over them. “He’s not interested.”

“Oh.” Rey reaches around for something to say. “Are you sure?” 

Rose meets her eyes and Rey tries to convey without words that she’s here to listen without judgement. It seems to work because Rose answers with: “I actually asked him out once.” 

“What happened?”

“He was so nice about it!” A frustrated laugh escapes her. “He said he was sorry but we were working together and there was too much that could go wrong. That he valued our friendship too much to risk it, and he was sorry if he’d led me on because he honestly hadn’t meant to.” 

“Oh man.”

“I know.” Rose lets out a sigh like she’s relieved to finally share. “I felt like such an idiot—I’d just made the whole thing up.”

Ben chooses that moment to deliver the morning’s crop of strawberries—the last of what they hadn’t picked yesterday. His eyes flick to Rey as he enters the room, dropping quickly, and she tries to suppress the surge of blush to her cheeks. Rose’s words still ring in her ears and she wonders if she might also be falling into the same trap. 

“Got some more grist for the mill,” he says in his rough voice. Sweat stains colour his shirt and Rey is vividly reminded of the past afternoon, when she was treated to a view of the powerful muscles that hide underneath.

“Wonderful. Pop them in the sink,” Rose instructs.

“How’s it going in here?” he asks.

“Good. Hot as always,” Rose replies with half a chuckle. Rey nods in agreement.

“Oh.” He hesitates at the kitchen counter, shoulders high and tense, his bowed back making him seem shorter. “I was wondering if Rey fancied riding R2, but if you’re still busy…”

A smile breaks like dawn across Rey’s face, but it falters as she looks at the mountain of strawberries.

“There’s still a lot to do…” 

“Of course she fancies it.” Rose speaks over her while Rey fixes her with her best ‘what about the jam’ look. “She went on about how excited she was to ride a horse for about half an hour last night.”

“Hey!” Blush fills Rey’s cheeks.

“What? You did.” The set of Rose’s face is unapologetic.

Ben shifts his weight from foot to foot, as if uninterested. “Well, if you want to, R2 needs some exercise today…” his voice trails off.

Rey looks from Rose to Ben and back again. Ben doesn’t meet her gaze but Rose raises her eyebrows encouragingly, so she answers:

“Okay then, I’d love to!”

 

 

 

“So put your foot there—don’t worry, R2 won’t move—and when I say, press up and swing your leg over while I give you a boost.” Rey manages to get her foot in the stirrup and secures a hold onto the saddle like Ben had showed her. His large hands come around her waist and her heartbeat stutters where it’s hammering in her ears.“Ready?” 

A small, high pitched sound leaves Rey’s throat. Her earlier excitement has been swarmed by doubt that this is actually a good idea. Suddenly R2 looks an awful lot taller and faster than he had yesterday.

“One, two, three!”

Rey pushes up with all her strength, but her foot is too high to get much force. She yelps, realising that she’s not going to clear the horse—but Ben’s hands tighten, lifting her effortlessly the extra height.

“There you go.” His hands drop away to stroke R2 reassuringly on the neck. Rey tries not to miss their comforting warmth as she shifts in the saddle. “How does it feel?”

“Good, yeah.” She readjusts again and R2 steps forward slightly, making her grab the saddle for dear life. “It’s kinda strange, being on top of something alive.”

Ben lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. “Do you feel ready to try walking?”

Rey changes her grip and gives a jerky nod. Ben clicks encouragingly and leads R2 away from the barn towards a grassy paddock.

It takes some getting used to—the rocking motion, being so high up and clearly not in charge of where she’s going. But Rey breathes deeply, trying to relax her posture. Horses can sense fear—she’s sure she’s heard that somewhere. And Ben said he wouldn’t let anything happen.

Her gaze shifts from where she’s clinging to the saddle to him, strolling beside R2. The tension from earlier seems to have melted from his shoulders. His very broad shoulders. Rey’s mouth runs a little dry and she forces her eyes to drop.

“Why’s he called R2, anyway?” she asks to distract herself. Ben twists to look at her, amber eyes catching the sunlight and she doubts if this was a good idea for an entirely new reason.

“Not really sure,” he answers. “He belongs to the owner, who I think rescued him or something. That’s what Finn told me.”

“Rescued?”

“From a circus or racetrack, I don’t know. That’s why he has so many nicks in his coat.” Ben runs a hand absentmindedly over one. “Considering how hard he must have had it, he really is a lovely, gentle horse.” 

R2 winnies as if he agrees and Rey braves lifting a hand to stroke his neck. “Poor thing.”

“Yeah.” Ben turns to face forward again. “This place seems to attract rescues.” His voice is so soft that Rey almost doesn’t hear him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, uh,” he fiddles with the reins for a second. “Well, there’s R2, Finn—who I guess told you he was mixed up in some stuff back in the city. Rose, who was kinda rescued from her sister’s shadow. And me.”

Rey lets the word hang in the air, an invitation for more backstory. Eventually Ben gives in.

“Last year, I was having a real struggle finding work after—after I got out. Moving across the border didn’t help, collaboration between federal departments means it still shows up on background checks. I was 23, never had a real job, and a criminal record. No one would hire me. Then Finn called, said he’d cleared it with the owner—he was fine with my record. That everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Sounds like quite a guy. I’d love to meet him.”

“Met too.” Rey’s eyes grow wide.

“You haven’t met him?”

“Nope. Don’t even know his real name.”

“What?”

“I searched the name Finn gave me—it’s a pseudonym. No one with that name exists. No records or anything.”

“Did you check the ownership records?” Rey flinches at her own stupidity. Normal people didn’t know stuff like how to check ownership records—or track down someone who didn’t want to be found. “Or something,” she adds lamely.

“Yeah, I did.” Rey blinks in surprise. “It’s owned by a business, no public shareholder records.”

“Oh.” 

They’ve stopped walking now, R2 nibbling on some of the lush grass as Ben turns to look at her. She shifts a little under his stare, trying to think of something to say.

“I guess it really is an anonymous benefactor scenario then.”

Ben’s face splits into a grin. “You make him sound like a sugar daddy.”

“Well maybe he is!” She joins him with a smile. “Has anyone ever insisted on you stripping off to pick strawberries? Because people pay money to see that kind of thing.”

A startled laugh erupts from him. “Absolutely not. No one’s interested in seeing me shirtless.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She meant it to sound teasing, but it comes out a little too eager, making Ben blush and train his gaze on the ground. Rey opens her mouth to clarify that she  _ definitely  _ didn’t mean  _ she _ wanted to see him shirtless, just that he was an attractive guy, not that  _ she _ found him attractive, she means. But before she can get it out, Ben is talking again.

“Want to try for yourself?” It takes Rey a moment to register that he’s offering her the reins and talking about R2.

“Um, yeah, sure.” It comes out very high pitched. “What do I do?” she questions as he hands them to her.

“Pull left for left. Right for right. Back to slow or stop.” He strokes R2 who is still blissfully grazing. “Give him a kick when you want to go.”

“Kick?”

“Dig your heels in, so he knows what you want.”

“Right.” She lifts her feet in the stirrups, but lowers them without kicking. “Is this going to go okay?” she asks, letting her nerves get the better of her.

“Absolutely. I know you can do this.” His voice is casual, but she still sits a little prouder at his words.

Exhaling deeply, she lifts her feet again, bringing her heels swiftly back into R2’s ribs.

 

 

 

“I’m parched—do you want a drink?” Rey asks over her shoulder as she makes a beeline for the fridge. 

They’d spent almost two hours in the paddock, Ben teaching her how to walk and guide R2 properly, then even getting her to bring him up to a trot for a little. She’d absolutely loved it - Ben had only managed to coax her back to the house with the promise of another lesson tomorrow.

“Thanks,” Ben gives her a grateful nod, taking the Coke she’s offering him.

She cracks her own open and drinks deeply. The fizzy liquid is refreshing and cold, and she can’t help  _ ahhing  _ in delight. But as she does, her eye catches Ben’s, who’s watching her with his own drink frozen halfway to his open mouth. 

“Oh, you two are back,” Finn’s voice bounces down the stairs, drawing Rey’s look to where he’s appearing. “How was the lesson?”

“Amazing!” she says with a wide smile. “R2 was really calm and Ben’s an amazing teacher-”

Her imminent infodump is interrupted by Ben choking on his Coke. He holds a hand up as she and Finn look over in concern.

“Wrong tube,” he coughs out. 

“I hate when that happens,” Finn says, nodding in solidarity. “Anyway Peanut, so you enjoyed yourself?”

“Yeah.” Another harsh cough from Ben punctuates her sentence. “How were things here?”

“Fine, I’m just out to grab some veg and then I’ll get food started.”

“Do you need me to help with anything?”

“Nah, not yet. Maybe when I get back.” Finn crosses the kitchen a few strides, clapping Ben on the back as he goes. “See you tomorrow, man.”

“Yeah, see you,” Ben grunts.  Then Finn is out the door and quiet envelopes them.

Ben fiddles with the tab of his can, stare locked onto it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. His shoulders are hitched over one another again, folding himself against the counter. Rey takes another sip, looking out the window to where the afternoon wind is stirring small waves on the lake. 

“I’ll never get tired of looking at this lake,” she says, thinking out loud. 

She doesn’t know why she’s always just blurting out whatever pops into her mind when she’s around Ben. There’s something about him, she guesses. He’s quiet, stoic, but not stuck up. At least not as far as she can tell. Which isn’t much, considering she’s known the man a grand total of three days, on one of which she called him a murderer. Not exactly a flying start.

But still, she feels a strange kinship with him. They’ve both been through similar struggles; he’s in a better place to understand her than almost anyone. And she likes that, likes being able to open up a little bit, not be on guard all the time. She doesn’t feel like her past will scare Ben away.

“We’d never get a view like this in New Mexico, huh?” she prompts him when he stays silent.

“Never been,” he mumbles, eyes on the can.

“What?” Rey blinks in surprise. “But what about the - you know -” she gestures to the back of her arm; the same spot marked by the tattoo on Ben’s. He stiffens visibly, but doesn’t say anything. “Weren’t you in New Mexico when you joined them?”

“No.” His voice is tight as stretched leather. “I was at school on the East Coast. Upstate New York.”

Rey stares dumbly at him as his words sink in. “I had no idea the Empire’s reach was that long.” Wheels are turning in her head - maybe that’s why it’s been so hard to find her parents.

“Well, let’s just say my school was one of their top recruiting grounds,” he says with a humourless chuckle.

Rey nods in agreement. “The promise of money and power to teens who’ve never had twenty bucks to their name - I get why so many join, even if it ruins their lives in the end. It’s fucking sick that they target poor kids like that.” 

Now it’s Ben’s turn to look confused. “No, er, - I mean, yes, that’s sick, but it’s not what happened.” Rey’s brow draws closed as he continues, “I was at boarding school, everyone was loaded. Hell, half the people in my class went to Harvard.” He doesn’t try to hide his bitterness.

“Then what were the Empire doing there?”

Ben shrugs with a harsh exhale. “Recruiting.”

She fixes him with a hard look, watching him avoid her gaze. She doesn’t know why, but something is shifting in her stomach. She’s wondering if she misjudged him afterall - or rather that she judged him right from the start. A bunch of rich kids with everything at their fingertips? What reason could they have to join such an evil organisation?

“What on earth could the Empire have to offer them?” The question is harsher than she intends, bringing Ben to finally meet her look. His eyes are full of sharp edges and a muscle works in his jaw, chewing on his response. Eventually he drops her gaze. 

“I have no idea.” Rey opens her mouth to press him but he’s already moving towards the door. “Bye,” he calls as he’s already halfway out.

The door slams behind him before Rey can echo a “Bye!” and she’s left alone, standing in the kitchen with two half-drunk Cokes.

She stares at the door until the house creaks loudly around her, breaking her trance. She wakes up in herself, realising her jaw is clenched and her fists closed into tight balls. Dark is starting to descend on the room, but her feet are rooted in place as anger boils in her belly and Rey can’t decide if it’s because that’s the second time Ben’s run off on her or because she was so wrong about him. 

She’d thought he understood, that he got her past, that he’d faced similar struggles. But he was just a spoiled brat who’d joined those monsters for - for what? She had no idea. Fun? Rebellion? Risk? Envy and bitterness scorch through her. It’s easy when it’s not your life you’re risking. When Mummy and Daddy can just bail you out of trouble. 

_ But Ben had faced consequences _ , a small, logical voice reminds her. He’d said so himself; half is classmates went to Harvard while he’d been locked up. Then last summer, a year after he would have graduated, he was lucky to get this job. He’d had the world at his feet and he’d lost it all. 

Rey pushes aside the swell of sympathy that accompanies the thought. It didn’t change the fact that he’d had a choice when so many hadn’t, and had chosen to sit beside murderers and traffickers and torturers. And she couldn’t forgive him for that.

 

 

 

The next morning Rey spots Ben at the dock as she heads down from her cabin. It’s a still, windless morning and his deep voice carries easily when he calls her name through the trees. There’s a vulnerable edge to it that twangs something in her chest, but she refuses to turn. Instead, she heads straight to the house, finding Rose and Finn just finishing breakfast.

“Good morning,” she greets them as sunnily as she can with the back of her neck still prickling at her narrow avoidance of Ben.

“Mornin’,” Rose replies sleepily, taking a swig of coffee.

“What are we up to today?”

“Rose is baking,” Finn responds through mouthful of toast. “You and I have to go to town and do chores.”

“Yay, chores!” She tries for joking sarcasm, but can’t ignore the relief that washes over her. She knows she can’t avoid Ben all summer, but she just isn’t ready to see him yet. Not until she’s worked through the near-scrape of falling into his arms at the dock. Her commitment-phobe instincts were right - getting attached was too dangerous.

 

 

 

Half an hour later, she and Finn are heading to the truck when Ben ambushes them.

“Rey!” He sounds out of breath. “I, uh-” he cuts off, just seeming to spot Finn who’s come to a halt next to her. He looks between the two of them and then starts again. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says earnestly. “About yesterday.” 

“I’ll go load up the truck,” Finn says tactfully, abandoning her to continue down the drive.

Rey folds her arms over her chest. “What?” Ben flinches at the word but doesn’t back down.

“I was wrong, yesterday. I shouldn’t have just left like that.” Oh, it’s  _ that _ that he thinks she’s upset about.

“It’s fine,” she starts but he cuts her off.

“It’s just that it’s something really hard for me to talk about, and people usually just jump straight to judging me.” Rey shifts her weight guiltily. That wasn’t what she’d done. He’d left and given her no other option but to connect the dots herself. What else was she supposed to do?  “And then I get angry or frustrated or whatever and I make it worse.” His warm brown eyes flick to hers. “I didn’t want that to happen with you.”

Despite herself, Rey feels her heart melting a little under his stare. 

“They just don’t give me a chance to explain how it - why it -” His voice drops out for a second as a hand runs through his hair. “I know what I did was wrong - fuck, do I know - and I’ve worked so hard to change and grow but people never see that. All they see is the choices of a stupid sixteen-year-old who thought it was a way of shrugging off the weight of his parents, a way of becoming his own man.” He says it all very quickly, as if the faster he can expel the words, the better.

 “I was young. I was stupid. It doesn’t make what I did okay. I just -” He looks around desperately. “Fuck, I’m so bad at this.” 

Rey can feel herself softening. Her arms fall away as she’s suddenly reminded of just how young he was when all this happened. Of how he’s going to carry those choices for the rest of his life. They’d both lost everything to the Empire.

“I just don’t understand, Ben,” her voice is almost a whisper. “You had everything. A family, money, education. Why would you throw that all away?”

“I didn’t think I was.” His voice is heavy with regret. “I didn’t even know what the Empire was at first. At my school, they called themselves the First Order. My tutor ran the group, he said it was good experience for the cut-throat world of politics, like an extracurricular or something. And by the time I realised what was really happening, I can’t even say it was too late. I should have left then. But I didn’t.” His back seems to bow forward under the weight of his words. “I fucking wish I had.” 

Ben shakes his head, lips pursed hard. When he releases them they flush a deep pink, and Rey chastises herself for noticing. 

“Ben, I -”

“Rey!” Finn’s voice cuts through her words. 

“Shit,” she mutters, spinning to look at where Finn is waiting by the truck.

“Go,” Ben’s deep rumble supplies. 

Rey throws an apologetic glance his way before hurrying off to jump in beside Finn.

“What was all that about?” Finn asks as she fastens her seatbelt.

“Oh, nothing,” Rey lies. “The riding lesson.” She’s not ready to share with Finn. Not sure if it’s something he would understand. She’s not sure if it’s something she really understands either.

 

 

 

It turns out a day trip with Finn is exactly what Rey needs to clear her head. They’re barely ten minutes out of the gate when he’s already got her singing at full volume along to his mixtape (So retro!) and grinning from ear to ear. Finn’s beaming too, his signature infectious smile, all pearly teeth and wrinkled eyes. 

“I haven’t heard this song in ages!” Rey almost shouts over the music.

Finn laughs, turning the volume down to a more manageable level. “I know, it’s such a golden oldie. Poe has ancient taste - hence the mixtape.”

“Poe?” Rey quirks an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Dameron. He’s a friend of me and Rose.”

“Ahh,” Rey says with a knowing glance at the driver’s side.

“What?”

“A friend who makes you mixtapes - ,” she says while rummaging in the glove box, digging for the case. 

Finn catches her in the corner of her eye, and tries to stop her with one hand, “Hey!”

“- with, and I count, five love songs, and, aww look, a little heart in the corner.” She fixes Finn with a shit-eating grin that he refuses to see, eyes fixed on the road. “Curious, that.”

“Yeah, well, Poe’s a 13-year-old girl at heart. I’m pretty sure he’s got a rainbow unicorn tattooed on his left buttcheek.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Oh come on,” he looks at her in exasperation, “that’s not how I meant it.”

“I know,” Rey chuckles, “I’m just teasing.” She pauses a second, mind drawn back to Rose in the kitchen yesterday. But she shakes it off - Finn deserves to be happy as much as anyone, and at least Poe has half decent music taste. “He’s a lucky fella.”

“Well, he’s not really, ya know,” Finn hesitates, searching for words, “my fella. We’re just friends.”

“Uh huh.” She’s still grinning. Finn blows out an exasperated exhale, but doesn’t press his point further. 

 

 

 

The rest of their trip is easy socially and incredibly challenging physically. Finn has her laughing until diaphragm spasms and tears well in her eyes one moment, and panting for breath as she’s lifting a sack of feed the next. Rey’s not one to be shy of physical labour, but, by the time they’re on their way back home, her arms are throbbing and her stomach is grumpily requesting food.

Luckily, Rose has freshly baked bread waiting for them when they get back. Rey can’t help groaning in delight as she takes a bite slathered in butter and jam (homemade, obviously). It’s light and fluffy in the centre with a strong, seeded crust. She claims another slice before she finishes her first, sure Finn is just as hungry and not willing to go without. The rest of the lunch is healthy and delicious; hard boiled eggs, salad, and locally grown ham, but none of it measures up to the bread.

Once they finish, Rey is full and happy, ready to drift into a pleasant sleep, potentially lying in the sun on the dock. Her eyelids droop at the idea - her damp skin warmed by the light, a breeze caressing her, the soft smell of lakewater. A yawn stretches through her at the thought.

But before she can enact her plan, Ben appears at the front door, his short knock drawing everyone’s attention. 

“I was just wondering if Rey fancied a riding lesson?” He peeks his upper body through the doorway, not meeting Rey’s eyes.

“Oh, give the girl a break. She’s been hauling feed bags all day,” Finn voices.

Rey tries to protest, but Ben reacts faster: “Oh right, of course. Another day I guess.”

“No, no! I want to.” Unbidden, another yawn reaches through her body, so strong that she shakes with its effort. Finn raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m not travelling just to nap in new and exotic places.”

A chuckle jumps through Rose’s throat. “Fair enough.”

“I don’t know,” Finn says with a smirk. “You were dosing pretty nicely on the ride back. And if you fall asleep on R2, your awakening will be much ruder than me slamming the door.”

Rey rolls her eyes at Finn, but before she can utter her retort, Ben pipes up:

“We could go out in the canoe. Then, if you fall asleep, it doesn’t matter.”

A beat of silence passes at the lunch table. Rey’s eyes catch Ben’s and her stomach hollows at how eager he looks. He looks like he’d jump off a cliff if it meant he got to spend time with her. A puddle of guilt pools in her belly and she can’t resist the urge to reassure him. 

“Yeah, that sounds fun.”

 

 

 

Rey isn’t entirely sure what to wear for a canoe ride. Would a bathing suit seem like she expected him to capsize? Was she expecting to go swimming wherever he took her? Would she regret not being able to?

In the end, she decides to go for shorts and a big shirt over a bathing suit. 

She’s spent altogether too long debating about what to wear; she’s sure Ben is going to think she doesn’t want to go. Maybe she should say something about it. Mentioning that a situation is awkward always makes it less awkward, right? 

Rey shakes her head in rejection of the idea. That would be really cool wouldn’t it? Going up to the mountain of a man like an awkward teenager, mumbling something about overthinking what to wear. A stellar plan. One that would really make him want to hoist her up and rip her clothes off.

_ Not that that’s what she wants! _ Rey quickly corrects herself. Flush burns in her cheeks and she checks over her shoulder, as if someone might have overheard her embarrassing mental slip-up.

_ She needs to get a grip.  _ Rey thinks desperately as she shimmies into her running-come-swimming shorts.  _ She’s making something out of nothing. Again. _

Ben was being friendly. That was all. They’d had plans. The plans had changed. That was fine.

She slips on her flip flops as she bounds out of the cabin, almost forgetting to shut the bug screen after her. Excitement - or anxiety, depending on the moment - thrums through her veins like a second heartbeat. She’s not sure why, but this seems like the first time she’s spending time with Ben - the real Ben. Ben detached from who she thought he was. She’s determined to find out more about him, about who he was, why he made the choices he made.

He’s rubbing sun cream into the pale skin of his upper torso when she descends the stairs to the dock. Breath catches in her throat as she takes in the sight. A broad expanse of rippling muscle, sunlight catching the chocolate ends of his dark hair. Amber eyes, rose lips moving, and then pursing. He was saying something.

“Sorry, what was that?” Rey asks, trying to recover her faculties.

“Do you want some?” Ben extends an arm towards her. “Sun cream, I mean.”

Her eyes drop to where he’s holding out the bottle. “Thanks, but I just put some on.”

“Oh, right.”

Rey almost chokes on her words, but they leap out before she can stop them. “My back could probably do with some more coverage, though.”

“Oh.” Visible flush fills Ben’s cheeks. “Right.”

Their eyes lock as Rey shucks off her shirt. She flicks her hair over her shoulder, gathering it to one side and exposing her shoulder blades to him. 

“I always seem to miss the middle bit.” She can see Ben nod affirmatively. His Adam’s apple bobs as he squeezes out a generous helping of cream.

Tentatively, his hand makes contact with the skin of her back. Just over her spine, he massages the cream into her skin. Her heartbeat stutters as his fingers slip underneath the band of her bikini. She can feel the calluses that tatter his fingers, the roughness of his palms, each ridge heightening the sensation.

“There you go.” It ends too quickly, his hand retracting and leaving her back singing with warmth and a layer of greasy sun cream.

“Thanks.” Her burning face has nothing to do with the sun. 

 

 

 

Ben touches her exactly twice more before they’re safely settled in the small, tippy boat. The first is when he stretches out to stabilise her wobbly scramble into her seat. The second is as he brushes past her to push away from the dock. Both are punctuated with a significant increase in the warmth of the sun on her skin. 

Once they’re moving the world turns quickly cooler. A gentle breeze joins them as they head out into the centre of the lake, and despite the rippling sunlight, hairs soon raise on Rey’s spray dampened skin. She hugs her arms around her, rubbing up and down. 

“Here,” Ben’s presence rocks the boat slightly, his weight shifting from side to side as he passes something over her shoulder. It’s soft and unfolds in her hands - a blanket. She’s immediately glad of the thick, scratchy material shielding her chilled skin.

“Thanks,” she half-calls behind her. 

She takes a deep inhalation, hugging the blanket closer around her. It’s so quiet on the lake - the only sound is the occasional splash of Ben’s paddle in the clear water. The sun is quickly dropping behind the mountains to the west, and Rey is once again aware of how heavy her limbs, and eyelids, are becoming. 

There’s a deep romantic feeling here that permeates to her very bones, the water, the earth, and the air. She breathes it in and dreams it’s always been her reality. As much as she wishes she could cling on to this moment forever - the soft water, gentle breeze, even Ben’s  rhythmic breathing is a reassuring presence behind her - but it slips away with her consciousness. 

A dreamworld envelopes her and she dreams she’s whole, warm and safe in the arms of someone she loves. She doesn’t know who it is, but feels that they know her very well. They hold her close, a solid embrace that she’s happy to remain in. She breathes it in, a familiar fragrance filling her nose; musty earth, damp bark, and wood smoke. Always wood smoke.

Their hands close around her and she feels herself fracture. She’s already been broken and the weakness spreads under their touch. Tears spill over her cheeks as they back away from her, and suddenly her limbs are cold and leaden without them. She tries to apologize, reassure them that it’s not their fault, but They disappear. Her body continues to splinter, cracks breaking her open. 

But instead of blood, golden light pours out. She raises a hand in front of her, gazing into the shining fissure, eager to see what is within. 

 

 

 

Her eyes open to the bright light of the cabin interior. Her head is resting on something soft, the scratchy blanket still wrapped around her. From the corner of her vision, she sees Ben’s silhouette crouched around the wood burning stove, flickering light making it look ethereal.

“Ben?” Her voice croaks with sleep.

He spins immediately at her words. “Oh, hey.” Ben straightens, looking slightly awkward. “It’s getting a bit colder tonight - I thought I’d light the fire.” He’s twirling a twig between his long, lithe fingers. “But I can just go if you’d rather-”

Rey is on her feet before she realises what she’s doing. Her arms close around his firm torso, almost too wide for her to span it, but she squeezes a bit - she’s stronger than she looks - as she buries her face is his chest. 

Ben’s arms hover over her for a second, unsure of what to do, before coming to rest gently over her shoulders. Rey breathes in, taking a moment before she has to face the consequences of her impromptu hug. 

“Thank you,” she mumbles into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“What for?”

Rey takes a step back, untangling herself from Ben. She can’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes as she says, “For today. The canoe ride. Telling me the truth.” Ben exhales loudly, but she continues, “I don’t think I’ve had such a close friend for years. Maybe ever.”

Ben’s gaze meets hers then, and she can’t ignore the twinge of sadness in them. It makes her shift, every instinct screaming that this is a mistake. That getting close to people is dangerous. 

“Pretty sad, huh? Billy no-mates over here.” Her mouth quirks in a self-deprecating smile. 

“No. No, I get it. I’m the same.” Ben’s mouth twitches too. “Worse probably.”

“Well, now at least we have each other.”

“Yeah. At least we have each other.”

 

 

 

Rey crawls into bed shortly after Ben leaves. She’s added the scratchy blanket on top of the usual quilt. He was right, the night is quickly turning chilly. Wind is picking up, whipping through the branches, sending leaves cascading over the metal roof.  Rey listens to it, trying to let the violent symphony lull her to sleep.

But the cabin is golden oasis, full of warmth and flickering firelight, thanks to Ben. She feels safe, wrapped up in it. It’s almost like he’s still here with her, protecting her from the blustery outside.

It scares and excites her, how close she feels to him. She knows that they’re two people meeting by chance on the edge of the lake. That they were united by coincidence alone. There was nothing to connect them beyond quiet salutations mumbled at the forest floor and the occasional distant glance of farewell.  It was foolish to pretend it could be anything more. 

She was searching desperately; clinging to any semblance of a pattern to connect where they were from; to connect where they were going. She had to stop it.

They were going to be friends. That was it. He’d said as much himself.

 

 

 

The next day Ben suggests they take a hike up a nearby trail. The afternoon is cooler, and it’s perfect weather for hiking. Bright sunshine, a breeze to fend off impending heatstroke, and, once they reach the highest point, the view of the lake is clear and sparkling. Rey stares at it for almost an hour before the sun starts dropping in the sky and they have to head home.

That’s how they continue; every day, once their work is done, Ben suggests something new to do. He seems to enjoy showing Rey new ways to experience the beautiful nature they’ve found themselves in. 

She enjoys it too, getting to share her days with someone for a change. He’s easy to spend time with, now they’ve both been honest with each other. Or at least, she’s been mostly honest with him. It’s not like she’s been holding back the truth about her parents, or why she’s travelling. It just hasn’t come up. And Ben hasn’t asked.

Friday has something different in store, though. Rey trots up to the main house in the morning, keen to get going with jam, or picking, or whatever other chores are lined up for the day. She can’t say farmwork is her true calling - that honour probably lies with fixing cars - but all the physical labour is making her feel stronger and leaner than she has in years, and the fresh air stokes her appetite and helps her sleep like nothing else.

“Good morning!” Rey chimes as she strides into the kitchen.

“You’re chipper this morning,” Rose pipes up. She’s pulling toast from the toaster, and Rey steals a slice, throwing it from hand to hand as she walks to the breakfast table.

“Maybe she’s excited for this evening,” Finn says from his seat.

“What’s happening this evening?”

Finn raises an eyebrow at her question. “We’re meeting Paige and Poe at the bar. We talked about it at lunch yesterday, don’t you remember? They’re really excited to meet you.”

“Oh yeah, right.” Rey blushes slightly at her forgetfulness. They’d been talking about it when Ben had shown up bare chested and sweaty, suggesting a cooling swim to a nearby beach, of sorts. It had been hard to focus on much else, if she was honest.  “No, yeah, it sounds like fun.”

“Well, hopefully.” Rose doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “But it means we need to leave earlyish, so we can get a parking spot.”

“Yeah, maybe an hour or two after we finish work,” Finn continues. “We could get dinner in town too. I wanna try that new pizza place.”

“The Mandalorian?” Rose questions, “Paige says they use too much cheese.”

“There’s no such thing,” Finn and Rey say simultaneously. 

They lock eyes before erupting into laughter, although Finn’s is significantly more authentic than Rey’s. It’s not that she doesn’t want to go out with Rose and Finn, but Ben had mentioned a canoe ride out to a waterfall, and she’d just washed her red bikini. But it was okay. They could always go another day. Rescheduling was just something friends had to do sometimes, right?

 

 

 

Rey did have a fun time at the bar with Finn, Rose, and Poe. Paige, Rose’s sister was there, working, but still popping up every so often to trade a witty comment. She owned the bar, alongside her (now-retired) dad and Rose, who’d become a silent partner since she’d started at the farm with Finn. Rey suspected that Paige didn’t quite  _ get  _ their situation, but she wasn’t exactly in a position to go interrogating their sibling-ship.

Poe, on the other hand, seemed to be a massive fan of Rose and Finn’s endeavour. Every chance he got he was complaining about the plastic wrapping on apples or the battery-farmed chickens or preservative-filled factory-made jams. Rose nods along like she’s heard it all before, but Finn seems genuinely enraptured by his long-drawn motivational speeches about only buying locally grown, organic veggies.

They make an entertaining group all-in-all. The conversation flows easily, Poe and Paige’s inherent country charm making Rey feel at home and comfortable, even though she can sense she’s the only new person in the bar. 

It’s a strange sensation that she’s grown familiar with. It’s not that she feels excluded exactly, more just that people are holding back inside jokes that they know she won’t get, that they’re repeating old information about how so-and-so met or what such-and-such use to do. It makes her feel like a chilled spot in a warm room, like she can tell some of the energy in the room is being spent on warming her up. 

Not like how she feels around Ben. When they’re working or hiking or swimming, she can tell his attention is focused on the moment. That when he looks like he’s listening, he’s listening. And when they finish that day’s activity, she’s already asking when he thinks they should do tomorrow. She doesn’t feel like a draining spot in the room. 

“Have you been up the mountain yet?” Paige asks as she pulls another beer for the red-head at the end of the bar. “The view from up there is insane.”

“Not yet. But Ben was talking about going next week on his day off.”

Quietly enough for it to be coincidence but loud enough to be unmissable, Poe grunts disapprovingly.

It would probably been better etiquette to ignore the grunt and move on. But the feeling she’s missing something important pricks at her mind. Unable to avoid reacting, Rey cocks a quizzical brow. “What?” 

Poe looks like he’s just been caught copying someone’s homework. “Oh, I mean,” his hands raise up almost as if he’s subconsciously surrendering. “I know he’s a great worker.” His eyes are more focused on Finn than Rey. “But I just don’t believe he’s trustworthy.”

“Poe,” Finn groans in exasperation. “We’ve had this conversation before. Luke trusts him, and so do I.”

“I know, I know.” Poe waves away Finn’s conviction. “But I just think, once you’re capable of something like that, you’re always capable of it, you know?” He looks to Paige for support, but she just shrugs noncommittally. 

“Capable of what?” Rey presses. She doesn’t know if she’s curious or angry. She desperately wants to know what Poe knows, wants to see if it measures up to what Ben’s told her, or if this has just been another exercise in trusting the wrong person.

“Well, he was convicted of aggravated assault, for a start.”

“You don’t know that, Poe,” Finn accosts him. “That’s just a rumour that’s been going around.”

“Then, it’s a true rumour.” Poe swings back the last of his beer, his voice rising slightly in the bustling room. “I’m just saying, big man like him? And everyone’s seen his temper - remember the month after he moved here? Broke three windows.”

“Yeah,” Finn admits, eyes catching Rey’s and quickly bouncing downwards. 

She isn’t sure whether Finn is admitting he believes Poe or not. But she can also feel the bristling agreement of the patrons in their vicinity. It puts a sour note in her mouth; and she’s not entirely certain whether that’s because she believes Poe or because she doesn’t. An image of the rage on Ben’s face when he’d shouted at her that first day bubbles to the surface of her mind. Sure, she’d forgiven him - she’d been in the wrong after all. But she hadn’t forgotten it just yet.

The moment gets swept away with the tide of conversation, but the energy still lingers around Rey. The rest of the evening she’s distracted, a nagging seed of doubt mixed with frustration at the world for always bringing up the past.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are more than welcome! I'm still a baby writer after all and I always want notes on things I could improve! Thank you!!

**Author's Note:**

> So, as might be painfully obvious from the quality, this is the first thing I've ever shared/uploaded for anyone but my nearest and dearest to read. I'm still a baby writer. Pls be kind.


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